


Sliders

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series, Sliders
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-23
Updated: 2007-05-12
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7093267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wade and Quinn rescue Doyle, a souled Darla, Lindsey, Wesley, Cordelia and Gunn from their First Evil overrun world. On their Earth, Faith, Dawn and Xander run into them. Set one month after Not Fade Away. .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fugitives

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

Disclaimer: BtVS and Angel belong to Joss Whedon/ Sliders belong to Tracey Torme Fox/Sci fi channel I don’t own them, someone else does.  
Timeline: One year after ‘Chosen’ a month after ‘Not Fade Away’. June 2004.

Summary: The folks from Sliders were always running into clones of themselves. This pair of Sliders are the double of the Quinn Mallory from the very first episode (he had complete control of his sliding device) who is married to this world’s Wade. So are they on Buffy's world or in yet another doppelganger universe? You work it out.

 

San Francisco  
Russian Hill  
1st June 2004

“You know, honey?” Wade said to her university professor husband, in the bathroom that morning. “I’m positive we did the right thing bringing those poor guys back through the vortex with us. But I don’t know how they’ll adjust to this world. Especially Cordelia Chase.”

“She’s a talented stage actress isn’t she?” Quinn shrugged, rinsing his razor blade in the sink. “She’ll land a role in a commercial or something in no time.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Wade still looked dubious. “But you’re right I guess. A girl born on the wrong side of the tracks like Cordelia is a born survivor.”

****

Wes jumped startled, instinctively reaching for the knife he carried in his jacket. Something had brushed against his arm as he napped on the Mallorys’ couch.

“Relax Wyndam.” Cordelia ordered, her long black hair swinging against his face. “We’re safe remember?”

“Hard to bloody take it in.” Wes looked up at her with red rimed eyes. “What do you want, Ms Chase?”

“Your pack of cigarettes. I’ve run out.” Cordelia sighed. “I can’t find my brand on this world either huh? There’re no Luckies, but only Morley’s in the same color packaging. It’s a fricking downer.”

Wes felt in his jacket. “Here...” He handed his cigarettes to her, then got up himself.

Cordelia and Wes sat on the Mallorys’ balcony, looking at the peaceful harbor scene below them. Their cigarettes shared outside were going to be a regular occurrence for them both, from now on they realized. No one seemed to smoke much here, not compared to back on their world. You couldn’t even smoke in bars in this California!

“So what are you gonna do?” Cordelia asked him curiously, leaning back on the patio swing chair she was seated on. “Now we’re here in this world. Contact the Watcher’s Council? See your Mom?” 

“No, my double died last month on this world. It would upset Mum too much, but she’s not my real mother is she? My mother, Leslie Wyndam divorced my arsehole father Roger Pryce when I was four. He’s alive in this world apparently. Wonder if he’s a prick in this dimension too.” Wes mused. “No… I think I’ll go solo demon hunting. There’s money to be made if one goes about it the right way.”

“I can totally see you doing that. A cold son of a bitch like you, Wyndam.” Cordelia confirmed without malice. “I’m not big with the family reunion crap with my parents either. Although it seems my Dad’s in jail in this dimension as well. But not for armed robbery, tax fraud. What a fricking joke…like Dad could count past twenty thanks to the brain injury he got in the Gulf.”

“There’s a second Gulf war going on in this dimension.” Wes mentioned. “And terrorists destroyed the World Trade Center Towers, not the Empire State building on 9/11, but politically it seems much the same as our world.”

“Except it hasn’t been taken over by the First Evil and super ugly vampires.” Cordelia reminded him.

“Yes, there is that minor difference of course.” Wes sighed. And Faith was alive here. But Wes was trying not to think of that. It would be a mistake to get in contact with her. He had to keep telling himself whoever this world’s slayer was… she wouldn’t be his Faith.

****

“My darling boy.” Darla crooned to her two year old son in her lap. Oh how she loved him. The only good thing in her world she and his father had ever produced together.

A male hand was passing her a mug. She drank down the warmed pig blood her partner gave her gratefully.

“Thanks, you still my protector in this world, my only love?” she asked rhetorically. She knew the Mid-Western man would be. Their love was eternal. Well as long as he lived. They had fifty years left tops she supposed. He was healthy but took risks.

Lindsey McDonald kissed his undead lover affectionately on the top of her blonde head. “Always Darla.”

“Do you think you can get a job here?” Darla asked him, as he took her son Connor from her. She gestured to their surroundings with her head. “I love what the Mallorys' have done with their basement.” She smiled sarcastically. “But I want us to have our own place again. With a view please. I do love a view.”

“We’ll get our own place again with UV light filters on the windows. Up high, overlooking the bay.” Lindsey promised, rolling a ball to Connor and making the toddler giggle. “I just need to get fake ID and papers, then I can start working as a paramedic again.”

“You’ll give and give in this world too? Saving everyone, just like you saved me.” Darla smirked. “Good thing I’m here to take care of you.”

“Good thing I’m here to look after Connor, when Doyle’s visions send you off on more hairy adventures in the middle of the night.” Lindsay added. He picked up his step son. Connor’s father had been the most evil vampire that had ever existed. Lindsey's mortal enemy.

“Come on little guy. Dad’s gonna take you for a walk in the park.” Lindsay loved Connor like his own son.

Lindsay walked up the basement stairs as Doyle and Gunn came down them. Lindsey frowned at Gunn. Lindsey would have been happy to leave Gunn behind to die. But Darla had said that wouldn’t be right.

At the time Lindsey had left his home world, Wade and Quinn had been screaming at everyone to jump now before the vortex closed. Lindsey had been holding Connor. Wes Wyndam had dragged a sobbing Cordelia off her boyfriend’s dead body. Wyndam had thrown the young actress through the vortex then jumped himself. Doyle had pushed Lindsey and Connor through with the vortex him. Darla had apparently untied the on and off evil Wolfram and Hart lawyer from his chair. Pulling Gunn through the vortex with her.

It had been a good thing the Mallorys’ had been telling the truth. The refugees had emerged in the Mallorys’ basement. Otherwise Darla would have gone up in smoke in the midday sun.

“So have you thought over our offer, Charles?” Darla drained the last drop of pig’s blood out of her cup. She didn’t want to worry everyone, but it wasn’t as nutritionally satisfying to her as the blood back on her own world.

“Yeah, be your muscle basically now that Groo is dead.” Gunn sneered. “I’m a lawyer, Darla. I grew up in the Haight district in Frisco remember? Not participating in street fights in the hood. I don’t see what use I’d be to you.”

“You need to fan those dying embers of your own goodness, Charles, before they burn out.” Darla twisted her mouth. “You can’t give up on redeeming yourself. Satan’s law firm might not want you anymore, but Doyle and I do.”

****  
20th June 2004  
San Francisco

Wade and Quinn dropped into Darla and Doyle’s new office. Cordelia was polishing the sign that read 'D & D Supernatural Investigations' ‘we save the forsaken’. 

“Impressive.” Wade admired, “So got many cases?”

“Yeah, they’re rolling in.” Cordelia replied, hanging the sign back up on the office front door. “Darla’s a good business woman. I guess being a merchant’s wife back in colonial Virginia always set her up for it.”

“So how did someone like that wind up a vampire?” Wade asked intrigued, sitting on a desk adorned with a vase of flowers.

“Um, she was dying in childbirth. No cesareans back then. (That was how she had Connor, by c-section.) This Master Vampire wanted to torment her husband. Ripped the dead child from her belly then turned her. Gross, but vampires are gross. Can’t believe I’m working for Darla again.” Cordelia shrugged resignedly.

Back to the same gig as when Cordelia had first hit San Francisco a teenage runaway. Working for a vampire bitch with a soul and a psychic Irishman with booze and gambling problems. Cordelia’s rent needed to be paid. She was staying downstairs in Quinn’s mom’s place.

“Got a part in a play in a local theater group at least.” Cordelia volunteered to her new friends. “I’d ask you to come along to a performance except it’s avante garde B.S.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, princess.” Doyle entered the office with a battle axe dripping green blood. “Top of the morning to you, Wade, Quinn.”

“Oh I’m sorry.” Cordelia looked around her blankly. “Did a half demon Irish moron speak?”

“You hold bloody grudges woman.” Doyle opened the fridge door and drew out a soft drink.

“Yeah…I do.” Cordelia narrowed her eyes at him, not just because he had left green blood on the floor, from his axe. She blamed Doyle for Groo’s death. She had to blame someone. But she and Doyle were happy to pretend that her beef with him today was that he had accidentally erased a message on the answer phone from her new agent.

****  
1st August 2004  
San Francisco

On the rolling lawns of San Francisco University’s grounds, a young girl sat in the hot sun. She was reading a book she had ‘borrowed’ from the library. She wasn’t a student at the college. In fact Dawn Summers was intending to go to Oxford University in two years. To study being a watcher. But her Dad had moved to San Francisco last fall. He had begged Dawn to come stay with him this summer. Make up for his mid life crisis induced neglect of her and Buffy the past five years. 

Buffy involved with her life in Rome had told Dawn to have a good time, but not get her hopes up. Dad had turned out to be a loser sadly. The fact Hank Summer’s couldn’t make his second marriage work with his Spanish secretary just confirmed it for Buffy.

A scuzzy looking demon came up to Dawn. “Good book? I’m sensing you’re struggling with it.” He sat down uninvited beside her. He picked at a blade of grass.

“Yeah, I am a little, you need to be big with the deciphering of medieval Russian to enjoy its finer points.” Dawn drawled. “Who are you and what do you want, apart from a ski mask over your head?” The demon did not blend in a crowd. He was butt ugly.

“My name’s Barney.” The demon held out his hand. “I’m a demon as you’ve probably noticed. I heard through networking your sister’s a slayer.”

“Yeah.” Dawn nodded, not taking his hand. “I guess your ears are big enough to pick up a whole lot.”

“You’re kinda hostile.” Barney was hurt.

“I grew up on a Hellmouth and spent the last year attending an international Roman high school. I drip with the survival instinct when it comes to sleazebags.” Dawn shrugged. “So I repeat, Barney, what do you want from me?”

“Your help.” Barney looked as innocent as he knew how.

***

In her office Darla was frowning at a case file. They undercharged on that one definitely. The client was from Pacific Heights. Cordelia should have billed her higher. Oh Doyle approved it. That explained it.

Darla smelled someone she knew come into the office. It was Wes, dressed in motorcycle leathers.

“Hello Darla. I need your undead souled assistance with something.” Wes requested, motorcycle helmet under his arm. “Don’t expect me to give you a ruddy penny for it either.”

“I do so loathe cheap Englishmen, Wes.” Darla warned him. Her stomach growled with hunger. Damn. She was starving. Lindsay was worried about the weight she’d lost since they’d come to this world. Said she’d have to start drinking human blood. He could get a job in a blood bank, slip her some.

“You look ill.” Wes mentioned. “Gaunt.”

“How personal of you to mention that.” Darla walked over to the refrigerator. Allowing her demon visage to show when she drank the pig’s blood. It was like drinking water when she needed wine.

“Have you tried other animals’ blood, chimpanzee, gorilla?” Wes suggested. He had suspected Darla would have problems digesting the pigs’ blood here. The pork on this world tasted strange to them all for some reason.

“Why yes, I simply call the keepers at the zoo once a week, ask them to send over Bobo the chimp for a TV dinner while I watch American Idol.” Darla kept her vampire appearance. She was turning into more of a bitch than normal she knew.

****

“So this demon assassin’s hunting you?” Dawn drank her milkshake in the Campus Ice cream parlor. “Why?” She swished her straw in the contents of her glass. “Guy must have a reason.”

“I never said I was a Boy Scout.” Barney said honestly. “I’m an empathy demon. I can read emotions. It gives me a slight advantage at cards. You know, Black Jack, Poker. Ooh, it’s also good for the fights. Like right now you have an ice cream headache from your milkshake.”

“Uh huh, you sound like a con artist. Anyhoo, as regards to your major stalking problem, what do you expect me to do about it?” Dawn asked puzzled. “I’m not Wonder Woman. I’m a seventeen year old high school student on vacation with her Dad. Not a demon bodyguard.”

“I thought maybe you could hide me out?” Barney said hopefully. “Put me up. I’d behave like a gentleman, um gentle demon. I swear.” He stifled a burp from eating his ice cram sundae too fast.

“I’m real sorry but no. My dad would have a heart attack.” Dawn shook her head. “He doesn’t realize that demons exist even.”

“Oh, that’s a shame ‘cause I hear your big sister was always hiding out fugitives. Ex vengeance demons, innocent werewolves, on the run soldiers, chipped vampires, murderers…” Barney paused watching Dawn’s expression closely. “Like that super nerd kid.”

“Yeah well, I am so not Buffy in that regard.” Dawn shrugged callously. “I’m sorry honestly. I hear on the grapevine that some new supernatural private eye firm has opened up downtown. Try them.” She stood up to leave.

“Yeah I will, thanks for your time and the sundae.” Barney smiled greasily.

“No problem. Sorry again not to be more help.” Dawn walked off quickly. Crap was he onto her?

Barney picked up his cell phone once Dawn was out of sight. “It’s me,” he said excitedly. “I think I know where she is.”

 

****

Dawn unlocked the door to her father’s house. “Honey I’m home.” She called jokingly.

She went into the fridge to get herself one of her Dad’s beers. She picked one up for her house guest as well.

She walked into the living room. Faith was curled up on the couch watching the news. Dawn passed Faith a beer bottle and glass.

Faith didn’t know why Dawn wanted to create dishes by putting beer in a glass, but shit it was Dawn’s house. Faith owed the kid big time right now.

“You been on the idiot box again?” Dawn asked Faith, sitting down beside her on the couch. She sipped her beer. Faith might have tried to kill Dawn when she was twelve, but at least Faith didn’t give her grief about drinking underage.

“Yeah. You sure your old man isn’t gonna catch on, that I’m the wanted fugitive being shown on the news flashes every damn day?” Faith worried.

“Nope, Dad lives on his own freaking little planet.” Dawn said bitterly. “And hey Faith, I have a favor to ask, don’t punch me in the face okay? When I put in my request.”

“Uh,huh. I’m reformed remember. What gives? Have I not been picking up after myself enough?” Faith wiped at the mark her beer glass left on the coffee table guiltily. Oops.

“Please don’t screw my Dad.” Dawn said bluntly.

“Whoa, Hank baby, came on to me Dawnie. And I didn’t okay? I turned him down. I’m sorry you walked in on him making a pass at me in the kitchen.” Faith said virtuously. “Good thing he’s outta town this week huh?”

“Yeah, because that’s why you invite your daughter to stay, so you can leave her, while you take off for some dumb sales convention.” Dawn picked at a fingernail crossly. “No wonder I have freaking abandonment issues.”

***

Lindsey walked into the D & D office with Connor in his arms. The vampire he loved was busy talking to Gunn, Doyle and it looked like Wes Wyndam was back in San Francisco. Wes was looking better than Lindsay had seen him last. They all were apart from Darla.

“So you free to come home baby?” Lindsey asked Darla. His immortal beloved was not well, not strong. She was starving to death sort of. Darla was of course already dead. And too afraid to drink human blood in case it changed her personality.

“No, Wyndam here, wants me to find some boring demon kidnapper.” Darla sighed. “This demon’s tedious M.O. is to capture his victims and then auction their body parts off at auctions down in L.A. it looks like our dear friends Wolfram and Hart often put in bids.” She looked at Gunn expectantly.

“Yeah, I’m on to it Darla.” Gunn stretched. “What’s the weather like outside?” He asked Lindsay.

“Hot.” Lindsey held out Connor to give his mother a kiss good bye.

Doyle spilled his coffee cup. He put his hands to his head in pain.

“Oh use your demon form to receive the vision Doyle.” Darla said bored. “You get no sympathy from me, you melodramatic Paddy.”

Darla went to hug Connor good bye. She sniffed her son’s hair. The toddler smelled so delicious. In a maternal way! Darla thought that in a maternal way, she did, she truly did.

She kissed Lindsey farewell lingeringly. She could hear his heartbeat calling to her. 

Darla pulled herself together. Perhaps she’d kill a stray dog tonight on the way home. She probably needed fresh living blood that was all.

She turned to her business partner. Doyle was bracing himself against the desk gasping. Wyndam and Gunn watching concerned.

“So are you going to write the details down? Or pose like that so I can see how you don’t work out enough?” Darla hinted delicately to Doyle.

“When I’ve recovered from the blinding headache the vision just gave me you undead sow, I will.” Doyle snapped.

Darla held out a pen and pad. “Never going grey, but becoming rapidly more irritated.”

Doyle groaned and wrote down the address. “It’s a teenage girl and her room mate I think. A young woman, can’t make her out. They’re going to be attacked in an hour by two demons. They have black greasy hair, blue skin, a mouthful of fangs and four eyes each. Nasty looking bastards.”

“Great, another freebie we have to do.” Darla bitched. She picked up a battle axe from the cabinet on the wall. “Did it look like they could afford to pay us?”

“Well, the address is in Pacific Heights so probably.” Gunn took down a crossbow. He’d been practicing, he thought he’d got pretty darn good with the thing.

“Need some help?” Wes offered to them.

“Oh the more the merrier, Wyndam darling. I’ve always thought that.” Darla leered.


	2. The Hunger

The Hunger  
1st August 2004

Pacific Heights  
San Francisco

****

It was a sweltering night. Even with high cut denim shorts and customary maroon tank top on, Faith felt the heat coming off the city streets. Cooling sea breezes seemed to be in short supply tonight.

It was a bitch having to turn on the stove to grill the pork chops. It made the kitchen a furnace.

“You seen the ketchup?” Faith yelled out to Dawn. Faith was making them them both dinner that evening. She could be skilled in the kitchen, not just bed. That's what recipe books were for. Right?

“Isn’t it in the pantry?” Dawn shouted back from the living room. She too was hot. She had changed into a fresh cotton sun dress but was still uncomfortably warm.

“No!” Faith had already looked there. Crap, the ketchup wasn’t in the refrigerator either. Where the hell could it be?

Faith could hear a scuttling on the roof. A sound that brought back hideous memories. She had been nineteen, suffering from severe mental illness. One month awoken from a mystical coma. The loneliest girl in the world. Freelancing for Evil Law Firm Inc. in L.A.

Christ, the terrible things Faith had done to Wesley Wyndam Pryce her ex-watcher at the time. In the hateful grip of dissociative psychosis she had tortured him for fun. She had been bad, evil, a sick waste of space on the planet.

Faith had truly wanted to die back then. She just had too much automatic self preservation to commit deliberate suicide. Faith had wanted someone else to kill her to take the bad away. No one had believed in her apart from Angel.

The vampire had brought the unhappy girl back to the sanctuary of his basement apartment. Faith had been watching television there one night, starting to relax, mentally heal, thinking she was safe. Wolfram and Hart had sent an assassin demon to take her out. For Faith failing to deliver on her contract to eliminate Angel. 

This was what Faith feared most at twenty three, back in California on the run. That L.A. Wolfram and Hart were going to remember their grudge against her. Hire someone or something to do a hit on her.

The front door bell rang. Faith picked up the sharp knife she had been using to make coleslaw.

She heard Dawn scream loudly. There was a crashing noise as Dawn and a demon smashed through the coffee table. Faith sprinted for the living room. Oh shit, not Dawnie! A demon dropped down on Faith from the kitchen ceiling. Fuck, an assassin demon, Faith recognized. She was knocked to the floor. Oh double shit, not her!

Faith fought for her now very valued life against the demon on the kitchen tiles. Jesus, it had taken her and Angel’s combined efforts to bring down the one of this breed she had encountered previously. Now it sounded like there were two in the house. The front door was kicked in. Give her a break Big Guy, not more of the demon douche bags!

The demon she was wrestling with was trying to antisocially rip her throat out with its teeth. Faith forced her knife through one of its eyes. The demon reared back, squealing in pain.

Wicked good, Faith reflected, kicking the demon in the abdomen to throw it off her. One beady, ugly, spider-like eye down, three to go.

The demon growled savagely. It launched itself back on Faith with renewed fury. This slayer bitch was going to be shredded dead meat. Her human entrails would decorate the doorway of its lair. Their fight was ferocious. Destroying or damaging every piece of furniture in the kitchen it seemed.

Crap, it looked like Faith was not gonna make it to the elusive slayer twenty six year old bench mark. This was a major set back, particularly seeing how Faith wanted to save Dawn’s ass too at the moment. Judging from the thuds and shrieks coming from the living room, Dawn was still holding her own, bless the little Sunnydale expatriate. Thinking of Dawn gave Faith needed extra impetus to skewer the demon in the guts. The demon started to gouge Faith's bare thighs and arms. Wounding her in its death throes with its talons.

So Faith was extremely relived to have the demon’s head explode in shower of purple brain matter. Due to a deafening shot gun blast. Delivered by…what the fuck! Wesley? But he was dead.

Wes helped her wordlessly to her feet.

They stared at the other in shock for a second. When had he got that scar on his face? In Hell?

She had a tattoo on her bleeding upper arm. His Faith had disapproved of body art.

“Wes, you’re looking…alive.” Faith said coolly. Wesley looked kinda hot too, strangely enough.

“I was noticing the same about you.” Wesley replied equally casually, mysteriously.

No bud, Faith thought. I’m the one who’s meant to be alive here. I saw your dead body in the city morgue with my own eyes. I had to, I wouldn’t believe it otherwise.

The pork chops burning under the grill sent up enough smoke to set off the fire alarm. Faith and Wes put their hands over their ears.

“Knock the batteries out! Look up in the ceiling!” Dawn ordered from the living room.

Wes raised his shot gun. He carefully knocked the top off the smoke detector in the ceiling. He held out his hand to Faith once more, bending his knee slightly.

Animated corpse Wesley was gonna propose? What, he’d come back from the dead to make his ex-slayer his Bride in Hell? To deal out beyond the grave payback? Faith thought confused for a second. Oh yeah, she got it now. Duh.

Faith stepped onto Wesley’s thigh. She allowed him to raise her to the high ceiling so she could remove the batteries from the smoke detector. He slowly lowered her to the ground again. Her hands around his body as she slid back down him. He felt warm to the touch. Not dead.

Faith walked over to the stove to switch it off. She jerked out the blackened pork chops from under the grill. Damn. She could feel Wesley’s eyes burning into her.

Dawn walked into the kitchen in horror. “Geez, there is no way Dad is gonna believe I didn’t throw a keg party in his a’hole absence. You should like see the living room Faith.”

“Yes well, that’s life on the mortal coil isn’t it?” Darla entered the kitchen. “Pain, suffering, disease, death, get grounded by pissed off parents because they think you wrecked the house. When I was your age... Dawn is it? My parents’ cabin was raided by Chesapeake Indians, my baby brother killed before by my eyes. Our furniture stood up better to the massacre we had inside the house I concede that fact…but. ”

Dawn was ignoring Darla, she was staring at the man wearing leather motorcycle pants and a gray t-shirt in the kitchen in shock. “Mr Wyndam Pryce?” Dawn squeaked. “I thought you were dead?”

“I’m not who you think I am. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. Wes Wyndam.” Wes held out his hand in introduction. He had never seen Dawn before on his world.

“Wes Wyndam?” Dawn didn’t understand.

Neither did Faith. Her jaw dropped open when Gunn entered the kitchen with Doyle.

“No effing way.” Faith was getting more freaked out by the second. “I identified your corpse Gunn. What was left of it after you were barbecued by a dragon, lover.”

“No kidding. On my world you were worm food too.” Gunn informed her. “Wore more clothes however.”

“Your world?” Faith was in serious need of a cigarette and drink by now. And where was Gunn getting off talking about her outfit? The guy was looking like some preppy dweeb from an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog.

As if telepathic Dawn was opening the refrigerator, raiding her father’s beer supply yet again.

Darla shoved Dawn rudely aside, picking up the thawing steak in the fridge for tomorrow’s dinner. Darla vamped out, sinking her fangs through the plastic cling wrap, sucking desperately at the defrosting beef blood that had pooled at the bottom of the plate.

“What you scream, I scream, we all scream for ice cream or like bloodsicles?” Dawn queried revolted. She hadn’t batted an eyelash in the living room when Darla had told her she had a soul. The universe was possibly crawling with souled vampires. Dawn was probably destined to meet them all. At least Buffy wouldn’t sleep with this one.

“We’re not from this world.” Wes explained to Faith. “We all come from a different dimension.”

“Oh.” Faith supposed that made sense. Anya was always ranting on about lobster worlds or some crap like that. Faith mostly had tried to tune Anya out, the week she had spent in her company in Sunnydale last year. “Um, are you guys’ evil?”

“No… you still called Faith O’Brien here?” Doyle began.

“Faith Lehane. I don’t know you sorry pal.” Faith thought the Irish dude was quite a babe in a disheveled kinda way. She wouldn’t object getting to know him. Intimately.

“Francis Doyle.” The Irishman introduced himself. “Do you know Darla?”

“I know who both you guys are now!” Faith remembered the stories Angel had told her on his irregular prison visits to her. Angel sucked at small talk. Faith had to do all the verbal arm twisting to get any freaking information from her broody savior.

“Hey, you sure fang chick isn’t evil?” Faith pointed to Darla wiping beef blood from her mouth, the female vampire gazing ravenously at the bloody scratches on Faith’s limbs.

“I have a stinking soul.” Darla rolled her eyes. “In fact Francis here, has visions given to him by the meddling powers that be. So I have to help the great unwashed. Apparently I was going off track again.” Darla shook her head. “You drain the blood of one deserving mugger… a scruffy half demon Irishman with appalling dress sense comes knocking at you penthouse door the next evening.” Darla explained. She was still staring intently at Faith’s clawed flesh.

Wes took Faith carefully by the arm. “We need to get your injuries tended Fai… Ms Lehane.”

So this Wes wanted to be all formal with her. Fine with Faith. She wondered if this watcher thought his version of her had been a piece of shit too.

He had gentle hands cleaning her wounds. 

***

“So Cordelia didn’t get the visions?” Faith checked, letting Wes light her cigarette on Hank Summers back patio. Princess Margaret had a nicotine habit? 

“No, but she came through the vortex with us.” Doyle told Faith and Dawn. “Cordelia met Darla first in Sunnydale, ran into her again in San Francisco. Cordy was on the verge of ending up a call girl, Darla saved her from it. So her white trash majesty has been in and out of our lives for the past six years.”

“Weren’t you sweet on Queen Cordelia? Got the hots for her kinda?” Faith had always been under that impression.

“I can’t lie … the moment I first met the little cow I found her a complete underage stiffener, but then Cordy opened her foul mouth.” Doyle shuddered. He had always liked ladies. This world’s Faith wasn’t doing it for him either. He had had a brief relationship with his world’s deceased Faith years ago.

“And I didn’t exist on your world?” Dawn felt kinda redundant hearing that. She was sitting cross legged on the ground, trying to not to stare at the cooler version of Wesley. He was a total hottie.

“No, should you have?” Darla said cuttingly. “We need to get you both out of here in case Wolfram and Hart tries to kill Faith again. It appears on this world we have to wet nurse slayers.” She shot accusingly at Faith.

“Hey! I can look after myself, always have, always will.” Faith declared, with all the confidence of a young woman who had successfully broken out of a maximum security prison twice. “But I’m not gonna leave Dawn alone in your undead care Darla. She goes on the rag unexpectedly and your fangs will be on her jugular. You’re just holding on by a thread bitch.”

****

Darla arrived home. Faith and Dawn safely ensconced in the office downstairs. Wes and Gunn surfing the Internet.

Darla got changed into a satin night slip. She crawled into bed beside Lindsey. Her first and only true love. She had married her Virginian husband when human to escape being flogged for being a prostitute. What she had had with Angelus had been sick, even for vampires.

Lindsey McDonald, Darla had met six years ago, in the year she had first come to San Francisco. At a singles night club while working a case. Improbably vampire and Midwestern Hick had clicked at first sight. Instant soul mates. Lindsey had even understood when Angelus had been brought back from the dead as Liam.

San Francisco Wolfram and Hart had been trying to break her. The human Liam had been dying of T.B. Lindsey had supported Darla's efforts to help Liam. Picked up the pieces when Angelus had raped her after being turned back into vampire by Drusilla. Attended Lamaze classes with her when she found out she was pregnant. Naturally Darla had been indulging Lindsey on that one. She didn't fricking breathe!

Lindsay stirred.

“Everyone okay? You save the day or rather night darlin’?” Lindsey rolled her on top of him sleepily. He loved her plain and simple. Darla was unique, fragile sometimes but so strong in the end.

“Of course.” Darla whispered down to him. “Hurt me Lindsey. I like that.”

“I know you do Darla, and little girls who are good… get what they want.” Lindsey flipped her over. He pinned her arms back. “Sounds like you did good again babe.”

“I can be bad, I know you like that too.” Darla smirked. She shivered with desire as Lindsey kissed her bare shoulder. They began to make love. She sank her fangs in his neck, sucking and drinking. His blood was hot rich sweet.

Darla sat up with a gasp. Thank God that had just been a dream. Lindsey lay sleeping peacefully beside her. 

Darla got out of bed shakily, putting on her silk robe. She forced herself past Connor’s room. Her slumbering son might not like Mommy’s kisses tonight.

She took the elevator down to the office. A light was on in a back room.

Gunn and Wes were pouring over printed out A4 sheets. Wes had his reading glasses on.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Gunn said to her.

Darla came into the room, she sat on the desk sensuously. She was a four hundred year old vampire. She oozed decadent sexuality unconsciously.

Darla grimaced. “I’m starving. That alley cat I fed off before? I might as well have been drinking chocolate milk for all the good it did me.”

“I’ve received very disturbing information, I’m sorry Darla. I’ve been reading this world’s prophecies. Got Rupert Giles in London to e-mail me some documents.” Wes had had some trouble convincing Giles over the telephone he wasn't evil. That he was on the side of good. Then he had had trouble persuading Giles not to tell his parents on this world that he was here.

Wes ruthlessly got on with delivering the bad news to Darla. 

“It seems this world like ours, was expecting a male vampire with a soul. Here as incredible as it seems, it was Angelus not Spike. Angelus or ‘Angel’ never had any progeny on this world apparently.” Wes did not know about the Stanford attending Connor. The only living beings on this planet who did were Eve and a comatose Illyria. Giles had thought Spike had perished on the Hellmouth. Only Andrew knew Spike had worked for Wolfram and Hart.

“Therefore this part of the prophecy never made any sense to anyone. ‘The parent will devour the child.’” Wes went on, meeting Darla’s innocent blue eyes fearlessly with his own harsh ones. “Until now.”


	3. Blood, babysitting and coffee

2nd August 2004

***  
D& D Investigation Offices

***

Dawn breathed heavily in her sleep. She was lying beside Faith on a double air mattress. They were on the floor in Doyle’s office of D & D investigations. She flung her arm around Faith. 

“Marco.” Dawn snuggled into Faith’s shoulder, nuzzling her collar bone.

Faith hoped this was a fantasy dream Dawnie was having, not a flashback. She carefully detached Dawn’s arm. Braless, wearing only a cut off black tank top and panties, Faith made her way to the bathroom.

On her way back to bed, Faith overheard what seemed to be an argument, coming from the back office with a light on. It sounded wicked interesting. There was no point standing outside the door to eavesdrop. Darla would smell her or hear her, whatever vampires did. If Faith went back and got changed she’d miss the good part. Besides, Faith was wearing Wal-Mart briefs Dawn had got for her, not her usual thong. Impulsively Faith decided to waltz right on in.

Gunn almost fell off his chair when he caught sight of her. He had slept with his world’s Faith. He never thought he’d be seeing that much, of that body again. 

Darla was pacing the floor. “I never wanted to bring a child into our horrible world. This world seems just as bad as ours was. But I loved Connor, the second I saw the ultrasound of him. They same way I loved my first child so long ago, when I felt its life inside me. Even though I didn’t love their fathers’. Even though at first, I didn’t want either of them. I never thought I’d bring Connor ugly death!”

“Weren’t you kinda worried you’d have problems when Connor got to kindergarten? When you helped out at the parents committee fundraiser ‘midday’ cake stalls and all?” Faith sat astride a swivel chair, leaning her arms on the back of it.

“That mortal mundane crap is what Lindsey has offered to do.” Darla snapped unamused. She would love to do things like that for Connor. Although what would she have in common with the other mothers? ‘Why no, Mrs Brown I haven’t tried that wrinkle prevention cream. I’m immortal. When Connor graduates High School? I’ll still appear twenty seven.’ Darla could imagine the freak show conversations.

“We’ve discovered a prophecy, where it says the child born of two vampires will be devoured by its parent.” Wes explained to Faith. He was leaning coolly against the wall. His eyes ran over her body appraisingly. His Faith would have sooner jumped off a cliff than appear in public like that. “I’m pleased to see your Slayer healing ability has kicked in.”

Faith ran her right hand over her left arm’s mending scabs. “Comes in handy, gotta admit.” Shit, this Wesley was seriously hot. What was wrong with her, finding him so attractive? She was meant to be an item with Wood. She hoped he’d take her back. Didn’t she?

“There are always loop holes.” Gunn’s lawyer brain was working over time. “Listen up Darla. We’ll take a syringe of the rug-rat’s blood. It won’t hurt him that much. We’ll squirt it into a cup of pig blood, you drink it. Prophecy fulfilled. Then you’ll be back to reading Connor ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ post haste.”

Maurice Sandak’s classic was Connor’s favorite bedtime book. Darla and Lindsey had been delighted to discover this dimension had it too.

“He’ll smell like food then!” Darla said angrily. “You all will. Lindsey will. You’re starting to me now. I’m starving, you don’t understand. The blood on this world, it’s like water to me not food.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t tried human blood here yet. I fricking sincerely hope.” Faith eyeballed her, slayer to vampire.

“No, are you volunteering?” Darla shot her a lascivious glance.

“Wouldn’ta thought you’d need my aphrodisiac type B, what with this true love stitch you have going down with MacDonald.” Faith presumed Darla’s, Lindsey McDonald was as easy on the eye as the L.A. Wolfram and Hart one had been. The paramedic sounded a complete sap S.N.A.G. It made Faith wonder what the hell Lilah Morgan had been on their world, a fricking female Episcopalian priest?

***

It was eight thirty in the morning. Cordelia Chase had arrived to work at D & D Investigations to an unpleasant surprise.

“Oh get real McDonald. Do I look like a fricking baby sitter?” Cordelia fumed at the pleading paramedic in front of her. “I’m an office manager. And the way these cases are piling up? D & D needs one. I don’t change diapers on Rosemary’s baby remember? Never did, never have, never will.”

“Hey, Darla’s resting. Wes’s round at Wade and Quinn’s. Please Cordelia…” Lindsey beseeched her. Holding a struggling Connor in his arms with difficulty. “Gunn’s here.” He tried to sweeten the package.

“I don’t do diapers either.” Gunn put in firmly. “Are you non compos mentis?” He took out a battle axe from the cabinet on the wall. “Besides I have a non paying client to put the hard word on. Good bye.” He walked out the door.”

“Hold on a sec. There are two girls crashing in Doyle’s office apparently. A slayer Faith clone and a teenager.” Lindsey said inspired. “They’ll help you out, you know how good our Faith was with kids.” He kissed Cordelia on the cheek, handing over Connor to her. “You’re an angel Cordy.” He dashed out the door.

Cordelia waited until Lindsey was out of sight. She cuddled Connor fondly. “Hey Connor, wanna give Auntie Cordy a hand watering the office pot plants?” She put him down.

“Yes please.” Connor said politely. He walked over to her as she filled up the plastic can. The toddler was demonically strong and extremely intelligent. Cordelia appreciated the fact Connor didn't lisp cutely.

“So still not potty trained yet huh?” Cordelia passed Connor his own miniature can. She had got it at a nickel and dime store for him. She had it hidden in a bottom drawer of an office filing cabinet. It was their little secret.

“Mommy says it will happen when it’s meant to.” Connor said securely.

Faith and Dawn emerged from Doyle’s office fully dressed. They had been warned not to mention the fact Angelus was Connor’s father. As far as everyone was concerned at D & D Investigations, Lindsey was the only Dad Connor needed.

Faith and Cordelia gaped at each other stunned. The ex cheerleader was a freak? The Beacon Hill, Catholic School graduate was a Southie, High School drop out?

“Holy Crap.” they both said at the same time. “What the fu...” They both stopped as Connor flung himself at Faith’s legs.

“Faithie!” Connor squealed in delight. Why wasn’t one of his favorite adults picking him up? She smelled of cigarettes! He looked up at Faith in disappointed disgust. “You’re not my girl.”

Heck, the sneer was genetic. Who woulda guessed? 

***

Doyle came into work late with a hangover, as per usual.

“Your coffee’s over there.” Cordelia pointed disdainfully, silver Indian bracelets tinkling on her wrist. In a nod to the fact she was first client contact, she was wearing her best clothes. A vintage hippie paisley print skirt. Her tight Old Navy t-shirt she had tie dyed herself. Cropping it short enough that customers could appreciate the money she had spent on getting the sun moon tattoo on her stomach. Cordelia had hemmed her t-shirt by hand. Cordelia scorned fashion labels as being unoriginal. She had her own name. Why the hell did she need to wear someone else’s on her clothing? 

The tattoo on her stomach disguised a disfiguring scar. Earned rescuing her a’hole boyfriend from Angelus in her last year at Sunnydale High. It was two months before she had ran away. Part of the reason she ran away. She hoped that her bastard ex, Alex Harris had died painfully with everyone else on their home world.

The slurping of Doyle brought Cordelia back to the present.

“Jaysus, I needed that, thanks.” A dehydrated Doyle gulped down the black brew thirstily. “So how are we today?”

“Pissed.” Cordelia answered shortly. She wriggled her bare feet into the Trade Aid Hessian sandals under her desk. 

“The usual then.” Doyle raised his eyebrows at what she was researching on the computer. “Pig farms. So you’ve heard the plan I take it? Are you concerned about the safety aspect? Worried for us?” 

“What? No, I missed out on a fricking part in a commercial.” Cordelia clicked down on her mouse. The printer hummed. “There was a funny demon guy sniffing around here too, an hour ago. Looking for Dawn. I ended up having to tell him to go fuck himself and the horse he rode in on.”

“Your people skills always leave me gobsmacked princess.” Doyle snorted. “So did he know she was here?”

“I don’t think so...” Cordelia took out her packet of cigarettes from her crushed velvet shoulder bag. “She and Faith were out in the back courtyard playing with Connor. Anyways, seeing it’s against the law for me to smoke at my desk in this stupid world. I’m taking my coffee break now. If you use my phone to ring your bookie, wipe it down afterwards Doyle. God knows where you were last night. I sure as hell don't wanna.”

Doyle looked after Cordelia affectionately as she slouched out of the office. He was forgiven now he knew. She had found a replacement ‘Kiss me I’m Irish’ coffee mug for him, at her favorite nickel and dime store. 

***  
Darla emerged from her apartment at sunset. She came weakly downstairs. Staggering from the elevator. She walked slowly into the office.

Everyone was waiting for her. Doyle, Wes, Gunn, Faith, Dawn, Cordelia. All seemingly brimming with excitement. Everyone had band aids on the crooks of their inner arms except Dawn. 

There were two 2 ½ liter plastic bags on Cordelia’s reception desk. They were filled with blood. Both Lindsay had stolen from the hospital that day.

Darla vamped out. “I can’t control…” She protested thickly through her fangs.

“We don’t want you to sweetie. We need you more of an undead bitch than normal this evening.” Cordelia picked up a bag. She cut off the corner with a pair of office scissors.

“Go on Darla me darlin’, fall off the wagon.” Doyle put his arm around her encouragingly. “I do every Friday night.”

“Oh yeah, more like every day that has a ‘Y’ in it.” Cordelia scoffed, passing Darla over the bag. Darla broke.

Darla let the room temperature liquid pour down her throat. She snatched up the other bag when it was finished. In four minutes she had consumed the equivalent of a human body’s worth of blood.

She turned to face everyone, a fully functioning vampire once more. She moved her head to allow her features to shift back to their human form.

“Do we smell like the yummiest Thanksgiving meal you ever had now?” Cordelia checked. They didn't think one day of blood would push her over the edge. They had far more faith in Darla than she did herself. “We all put a syringe worth of our blood in the mixture.”

“Thanksgiving was thankfully before my time” Darla sniffed Cordelia. “I’m wired up. I want to hop on a whirlwind. Seize the world by its throat. Drain it. But not you.” 

“I donated two syringes of my mystical life juice to give you that extra edge. Enjoy the buzz while it lasts Darla. You’re never getting a repeat.” Faith informed her forcefully. She fingered the scar on her neck unconsciously. One vampire feeding off her had been enough for a lifetime.

Wesley noticed the scar as she pushed her long wavy hair back. He recognized Angel’s bite pattern. Lindsey had them on his neck. If Angelus had been good on this world, why did Faith have scars from him too? Wesley liked the way she wore her hair down. His Faith had much shorter hair.

“She’s okay! We think.” Doyle called out to Lindsey in the back room.

Lindsey came in with Connor. Darla’s eyes filled with tears when she saw the pad on Connor’s forearm. They’d had to cut down for Connor, his veins were too tiny for a standard needle. But when he had been told it was to make Mommy well again, he had been uncomplaining. 

She held her darling men in her arms. Neither of them smelt like food anymore. And thanks to Gunn's insistence, they'd just flushed that stupid prophesy where she'd eat her own child down the proverbial toilet.

A knock came on the door. Wade and Quinn stepped into the room wearing camouflage gear.

“Hi everyone. Ah, you ready?” Quinn asked, looking at certain peoples outfits dubiously.

“Oh, I’m staying here with Gunn and Cordelia.” The floral sundress wearing Dawn assured Quinn, sitting behind the computer e-mailing Buffy about latest developments. “Kinda not big on the whole mud deal.”

“Are you staying behind Ms Lehane?” Wes asked puzzled. She didn’t seem dressed appropriately for the potential combat situation to him.

“Nah, I’m coming with.” Faith said enthusiastically. Clad in her standard summer slaying gear of black tank top, black jeans and black boots. “My only concern was Dawn being okay. If she’s with Cordelia (any world’s version) she’ll be fine. I’m burning for a good slay or kill or whatever.”

“You do realize where we’re going, and what we’re doing?” Wes reconfirmed.

“Uh huh. Why, got some kinda problem with me tagging along?” Faith said challengingly, to disguise her inner hurt. He probably thought she didn’t measure up to the apparent paragon of Slayerdom that had been her double. Although flat out at work, Cordelia had let a few things drop today. 

Faith O’Brien had come from a very affluent family in Boston. She spoke nicely, like Katherine fricking Hepburn apparently. Dressed like a non sexual Carolyn Bessette Kennedy. Went to Church every Sunday even when in S.F. and Sunnydale. Had being going to the University of Massachusetts part time.

UMass. Faith could puke with jealousy. How the hell had her double managed that life with her Mom? How on God’s green earth had her mother managed to marry someone rich? Or was her Dad brought up differently or something? His mom married an O’Brien?

And worse, the chick that had all the advantages Faith could only ever have dreamed of, rocked as a fucking slayer. Faith O’Brien was one of the best that had ever been. Higher kill rate than her world’s Buffy. Faith didn’t even have that over her.

Wes smiled at Faith a friendly way. “I thought you’d want to put on something long sleeved Ms Lehane, so you don’t get your scabs infected. Run and grab something now. Or can I lend you something?” He offered generously. 

Why was Wes so …nice to her? If he didn’t want to screw her over somehow, what did he want from her? Faith hadn’t felt this weird about the way a guy stared at her in the longest time. Not since she had got off with Riley Finn in B.’s body. Wes was only being decent to her because she looked like superslayer. Christ, Faith was a moron sometimes. 

“No, you can’t. I’ve been big on dressing myself independently since I was five. Kinda outgrown the whole watcher/slayer stage of my life Wyndam lover.” Faith replied rudely. ‘Isolationist slayer crap’ Robin had accused her on numerous occasions when Faith put her protective walls up.

“I beg your bloody pardon then.” Wesley’s face closed off from her. What the hell had he said wrong? What was her problem? He had just been being ...nice.

Darla broke away from Lindsey and Connor. “Where are we going?” She demanded to know.

“Babe you’ll love it. Guaranteed.” Lindsey chuckled ironically. His eyes twinkled.

****  
One hour north of San Francisco  
Main highway

“A pig farm, we’re going to raid a pig farm in a parallel world?” Darla said incredulously, squashed in the front seat of the truck on Doyle’s knees. “So I have a constant source of blood that suits me?”

“Yeah. Brilliant right?” Doyle beamed, awaiting praise for the scheme he and Wesley had hatched between them. Wesley at present was spitting out a mouthful of Faith’s long hair as she sat in his lap.

“But how do we possibly afford it? It would be cheaper for me to start killing muggers and rapists again.” Darla licked her lips at the thought. San Francisco had so many miserable homeless people as well. People who probably thought they’d be better off dead. Darla could help them out on that. She wasn’t seriously considering it? Oops. 

“Hey!” Faith uttered in a warning tone to Darla. Wes tightened his grip around Faith’s waist trying to get her to relax. Let Doyle handle Darla, he always did.

Wade almost swerved off the road in nervousness. Vampires’ were spooky there was no getting around it.

Doyle slapped Darla’s hand playfully. “It’s all about money with you Darla. What about friendship and family? All those things that are priceless, like they say in those credit card commercials.”

“How do we afford it?” Darla snapped in repetition, frightened at her roused inner demon’s digestive urgings.

“Yeah, always a blood drinking demon of focus aren’t you.” Doyle sighed despondently. “Wade and Quinn are going to help us out. Paying for the rent of pigs’ quarters at that farm down the road there, until we can afford to take over leasing the sties.”

“But we've almost paid off the start up money they gave us to set up D & D Investigations.” Darla wailed in despair. Darla hated anyone having anything over her.

“Look you guys saved our lives back on your world.” Wade said firmly. “We know you’re good for it and we’re very financially comfortable.” She and Quinn were filthy rich in fact. Ever since they had discovered a Pearl World that didn’t have pepper.

Wade slowed down the truck. “Okay people.” She leaned her arm out the truck window. She thumped the top of the roof as the signal for Quinn.

Quinn pulled out his sliding timer. Two hours should do it he thought. They were entering a Kromagg occupied world after all.

Kromaggs or "Maggots" as Quinn referred to them scathingly. They were are a species of humanoid primates that had evolved at the same time as the humans on a parallel Earth. They were very technologically advanced, with machines that could control gravity, create force-fields. The Kromaggs fought with handheld energy weapons (Quinn and Mallory had two themselves). Their aircraft ("manta" ships) were equipped with energy weapons and dimensional travel capabilities.

Their society was highly militaristic. Their stated agenda was to conquer all human-dominated alternate Earths in preparation for an assault on the world they called Kromagg Prime. The world the humans on that Earth originally drove them from after a World War.

The Kromaggs were ugly to humans in appearance. Bald, facially hairless with pointed teeth. They killed or enslaved all humans they met. The most unfortunate humans were kept alive for breeding purposes or test subjects.

Faith and Darla were both really looking forward to the chance of meeting Kromaggs. So they could kill them.


	4. Pigs and Reunions Kinda

2 August 2004  
Main Highway  
Kromagg Occupied Northern California  
Alt Earth

*****

Although Wade was driving the truck at a snails pace through the vortex, it was a very bumpy thirty second ride.

Wes held onto Faith securely to ensure she wouldn’t bang her head.

His mental processes on the hour long journey had veered in between inhaling the scent of Faith’s hair, feeling the warmth of her body beneath her clothing. Digesting the information that Kromaggs had psychic abilities, all could conjure the illusion that they looked human and one of their favorite gourmet delicacies was human eyeballs. 

Wade dipped the vehicles headlights. She drove the truck off the main road. She parked it under a group of trees. Everyone got out. On top of the truck roof Quinn flung down a camouflage tarpaulin. 

The party of five trudged up the highway in the dark to the pig farm. Wade had slid into this world earlier that day, to do some reconnaissance on the agricultural set up. 

Short spunky brunet Wade Wells Mallory and her tall rangy husband Quinn had a superhero complex. The thirty one year olds had first met at Berkeley University in the early nineties. Wade had been studying Romantic Literature, Quinn a scientific genius, Quantum Physics. 

When Quinn had invented a device that created vortices's that could take him to other worlds, he had gone immediately to Doppler Computer Store where Wade worked part time. He plucked up the nerve to kiss her soundly in front of amused customers. Then when she had responded favorably to this advance, asked her if she wanted to go on a really exciting mystery date.

The first world they had discovered together had been a San Francisco where the hippie movement had carried on to its ultimate logical conclusion. Completely legalized drugs, a pacifist society, and environmental friendliness. They were hooked. They explored a new world every weekend together.

After four months they had met the first person who would die if they didn’t take her with them. An eleven year old girl, the last survivor in a world where zombies had taken over North America. Without hesitation they rescued her.

But then their evacuee was back in their San Francisco, they had the dilemma of what to do with her. What were they meant to do, leave her outside an orphanage with a note attached saying ‘please feed me’?

Fortunately Wade had a childless Uncle and Aunt who were prepared to take the child in, no questions asked. But it made them pause to think. Perhaps they should be like the people on Star Trek and never interfere in a planet's goings on? The whole Prime Directive idea.

After a week of careful consideration they realized they had two options. They had an incredible opportunity to help people, achieve far more than a stint in the Peace Corps could ever do. Or they could be tourists.

Wade had always thought Star Trek franchise was bullshit. A strong feminist, she could never work out why the woman on the shows wore revealing costumes and the men flattering uniforms that hid their paunches, as the series went on.

So Wade and Quinn had graduated, got married, established professional careers. Quinn as a Professor of Quantum Physics at Berkley, Wade as an English high school teacher at a private boys’ academy. But during the weekend and vacation time, they continued their private heroic sliding lifestyle.

It was during a visit to one of their favorite alternate Earths, to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary, that they had encountered the S.F. fang gang.

The Mallorys’ had been surprised after a two month absence from the alternate Earth, how the service had gone downhill at the waterfront restaurant they had liked so much previously. Being attacked by Ubervamps while coming out of the dining establishment, had been a serious mood killer as well

****  
Pig Farm  
Kromagg Occupied Northern California

Once at the sties, Darla leaped into a pig pen. She picked up a squealing piglet. Its mother charged her. She jumped nimbly out of the pig pen again, sinking her fangs into the porcine infant’s throat. She held out her right arm, her hand giving the thumbs up sign. The blood from the pigs on this world was just what she needed to stay healthy. If vampires could be said to be healthy that is, seeing they were dead.

“Okay.” Quinn said in a low voice. “Time to be swine rustlers.”

Everyone slinked off into the darkness to their assigned missions. Doyle went back for the truck. Quinn cut the power to the farm using a Kromagg frequency jammer he had obtained from a double on yet another world. Wade and Wesley freed the eight human slaves. Telling them to head to Canada where the resistance movement against the Kromaggs was strongest.

Faith and Darla slipped into the farmhouse kitchen. A Kromagg overseer was snoring in an armchair. Darla fell on him eagerly, before Faith had a chance to draw her knife.

Darla was profoundly disappointed to find that Kromagg blood tasted disgusting. 

Faith was very excited to finally have the opportunity to finally kill a Kromagg herself. Two more Kromagg overseers had run into the kitchen summoned by their dying comrade’s telepathic distress signal.

The Kromaggs were tough to kill, yeah. Thought Faith, as she was flung painfully back against the kitchen wall by one. But honestly… she punched the Kromagg attacking her. Using her trademark, no holds barred uppercut across the jaw. Hurling herself on top of him, punching him again and again in the face. The Kromagg stumbled down on the floor. Faith took out her knife, slitting his throat, as the Kromagg lay dazed. Honestly, once you had faced an underground hellmouth cavern filled with thousands of Ubervamps, and survived. Faith reflected, anything else was always gonna be a piece of freaking cake in comparison.

Darla tore the throat out of the third Kromagg. But she didn’t drink. Inflicting pain on a sentient being mollified her inner demon somewhat.

Then it was time to herd the pigs onto the truck. This was tricky. Very tricky. Dangerous in fact. Faith empathized with the pigs, being intelligent and penned up made you have a short temper fuse.

Doyle was flung down against a broken rusty pail by an irate boar.

“Ow shit, my leg. My leg.” Doyle could have passed out with the pain. His face was white with the agony.

“Aw man, that’s gotta hurt!” Wade winced in sympathy, glancing at the gigantic jagged tear in Doyle’s thigh flesh. The cut was down to the bone. 

“Nothing a bullet between the eyes won’t fix.” Quinn grunted, herding his reluctant pig up the ramp to the truck.

“You can be such a bastard sometimes Quinn.” His wife scolded.

“Here, let me help you with that Francis.” Darla said to Doyle in a tone that implied she was about to give him manual relief. She took off her pink cotton bolero to bind his wounds. “Why relax darling man, I’m not going to bite.” She smirked.

*****

At last they had forty pigs safely secured inside the truck, plus fifty squealing piglets.

The humans and Darla crammed into the truck cab once more. Wesley and Faith had volunteered to go in the back of the truck to give Doyle leg room.

“Hell of a racket!” Wes yelled to her, above the swines' noisy protests.

“Yeah!” Faith agreed. “Hell of a smell!”

“Definitely not violets, as Doyle would say!” Wes winked at her.

Faith smiled reluctantly. Yeah okay, Wyndam was kinda cool. But he was a watcher. Faith had never met a watcher yet, who wasn’t deep down a callous bastard or bitch. They had to be, to do their job.

****

4th August 2004.  
D & D Investigations Office  
San Francisco

Two days later, after the pigs were settled successfully in their new home. Cordelia was at her desk once more. She had her CD player going, giving the reception area that extra welcoming ambiance.

Doyle came into the office, limping on crutches. “Turn that caterwauling off!” He shouted above the discordant din.

“God Doyle.” Cordelia scowled, turning the volume down. “Mighta guessed you’d have the fricking aesthetic taste to appreciate the classicism of the ‘Grateful Dead’, not.” She pointed her hand, her wrist today adorned with a bracelet of braided rags. “Your coffee’s still brewing, you’re on time.” She excused herself for her oversight.

“Slipping princess.” Doyle hobbled into his office, trying not to trip over Gunn. Gunn was picking up a dropped quiver of arrows off the floor.

Doyle opened his office door wide.

“Geez, do you like knock!” Dawn gasped outraged, in the middle of getting dressed.

Doyle slammed his office door shut, embarrassed. “When do they leave?” he wanted to know. His office was not a bloody boudoir for jail-bait.

“Um apparently, today, one of their pals from the New Watchers Council is coming for them.” Cordelia picked up her stapler, ready to tackle yet more invoices. “If it’s any consolation, you gotta admit they’ve been kinda useful. Dawn likes babysitting Connor, go figure. And Faith is fricking handy to have around the place. While you’re out of action and Gunn is still all lame with the medieval weaponry.” 

“Hey, right here in front of you Ms Chase!” Gunn protested, still on his hands and knees on the floor.

“And?” Cordelia sniffed. 

***

Faith in sunglasses for identity disguise purposes, was out in the front street. Saying good bye to Wes. She was having a cigarette. It wasn’t like she’d come out with him deliberately to talk to him alone for a few minutes. It wasn’t. “So you’re off on your rogue demon hunting stitch again huh?”

“Rogue demon hunting? What kind of girl’s blouse says that?” Wes grinned, strapping up his bags on his Harley Davidson. “I’m solo demon hunting.”

“Uh-huh… that sounds less monkey spanking I guess.” Faith blew smoke up in the air. Sounded fun. “Kinda figured you might stick around. D & D seem to be snowed under here.”

“I feel like working by myself for a bit.” Wes shrugged. He needed to get his head around things. “It would be a cold day in Hell before I answered to Darla in any case.”

“Yeah.” Faith ground her cigarette butt out on the pavement. “I think I’m flying out to the U.K tonight, depends if I can get fake ID swung for me. Hope we’re flying Lufthansa.”

“What did you do to land in prison in the first place? If you don’t mind me asking.” Wes asked her earnestly. He had got a hell of a shock when he found out she was on the run from the law.

“I do mind, but I can guess you’ll sticky beak, find out anyways…I’m a double murderer.” Faith confessed coolly. “I’m also a Sagittarius. I make a mean margarita as well. ”

“How the hell did that come about?” Wes got out his own cigarettes, leaning on his motorcycle.

“A bartender at a Sunnydale biker bar I used to hang out in, showed me. Showed me a few other things too.” Faith smirked in fond sexual memory. Wesley was waiting for her to be serious. “Um, my first victim was in the wrong place at the wrong time, so was my second definitely.”

Faith folded her arms. “I suppose my double never murdered anyone?” Had Faith O’Brien walked on water? Faith wondered.

“No.” Wes sighed. Oh course she bloody hadn’t. But there was that regrettable incident…“She did kill someone accidentally once, when she was seventeen. It was a dark alley. She was in a frenzy, staking one vampire after another. She mistook a tramp for…”

“So what happened?” Faith said interested. For that was just what happened to her with the mayor’s assistant. She had ended up in the U.K. being grilled in a Watchers Council brain washing interrogation session. Led by Roger Wyndam Pryce. It hadn’t rehabilitated her. In fact it had pushed her over the edge of her fragile sanity at the time.

“I disposed of the body, told her never to speak of it. Not our finest moment together. But we both agreed the good she’d do, outweighed the tragic mistake.” Wes finished his cigarette. He took out his cell phone. “So what’s your cell number in London?”

“What do ya need that for?” Faith wanted to know. Why was her heart pounding? What was wrong with the retarded organ? What was wrong with her freaking brain? Wes could be planning to turn her in to Interpol for fuck’s sake. And out of her mouth were coming the words. “082 730 7512, if it still works.”

“I’ll have to go to London myself tomorrow, if I can’t prevent this demon I’ve been trying to capture from leaving for L.A. today.” Wes explained, entering Faith’s London cell digits. “It would be nice to have someone from this world to catch up with. Just come unarmed. And you’re correct I will snoop.” He got on his motorcycle. “Good bye Ms Lehane, keep looking after yourself.”

“What I do best. See ya Wyndam.” Faith’s pathetic heart was still beating faster than it should be.

****

Xander walked off the street and into the lobby of the building. Apparently D & D Investigations was on the ground floor at the back.

Cordelia was on the phone, walking around the office. Dusting, at the same time she argued on the telephone. “No, you said he was a zombie. He wasn’t, he was a demon. I don’t think so, you made the error lady, and we charged you accordingly. Get real! That’s a dry cleaner’s problem huh?”

Xander stood frozen, looking at Cordelia’s back through the glass door of the office. Buffy had warned him. But nothing could prepare Xander for the two pronged shock of seeing Cordelia.

Firstly, he had been saddened immensely to hear that his world's Cordelia had never recovered from her mysterious coma. He received the news she had finally passed away in her sleep in L.A. in February. He had immediately hit a bar in Cape Town, South Africa where he had been at the time. Many lagers had dulled the pain of Cordelia Chase no longer on the planet. Beer good. And yet here she was again.

Secondly, Xander knew it wasn’t really her. It was her double. And merciful Zeus. What the hell had this Cordelia done to herself? She was wearing baggy black cotton Thai fisherman’s trousers, a cut off green silk cheongsam over the top. Her waist long hair had cheap wooden chopsticks inserted from a Chinese take out, twisting the hair back from her face. She was wearing scuffed ballerina pumps on her feet. She had a tattoo on her ankle!

“Yeah, well you go fuck yourself bitch.” Cordelia hung up the phone. She turned to greet the client that had come in behind her. “Hi, how can I help…?”

The university student radio station Cordelia had tuned her CD player into that afternoon, was playing a cover of ‘Wild horses’. The sunlight streamed through the UV resistant filters on the glass windows.

Cordelia and Xander took an involuntary step towards each other. Somehow they were a foot away from one another. They were in each others arms. Kissing ravenously. Their tongues’ twisting in a fevered tango. Their bodies pressed hard against the others.

“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away, Wild, wild horses, we’ll ride them some day” The song finished on the radio. “Hey Chip, why are you running?” “I’m sprinting to ‘Sportswear Attic’ they have a ten percent student discount on trainers today! Gonna make the track team for sure.” The radio commercial blared unromantically. “ATHLETIC NEEDS! SPORTSWEAR ATTIC!”

Cordelia pushed Xander violently away. She raised her right arm. She slapped him hard across the face.

“So not that pleased to see me then?” Xander guessed.

***  
6th August 2004  
Hank Summers House  
Pacific Heights  
San Francisco

“Thanks for coming with me Xander.” Dawn said, as she unlocked the repaired door to her father’s house. “I’m like praying you can fix the furniture.”

Xander stepped inside with her. “Dear God!” Xander surveyed the ruins of the living room furniture. “Hate to break it to you Dawnie, but I was a carpenter by trade, not a miracle worker.”

“Holy crap, Dad’s gonna kill me. I think…” Dawn had tried to clean everything up, when she had come back here three days ago with Gunn as her temporary bodyguard. But the damage was severe. “I don’t know him that well, guess I never will now. He’ll probably stick me back on the first jet plane to Rome.” She made a face.

“Rome not working out for the Dawnmiester huh?” Xander said sympathetically.

“I hate Italy!” Dawn moaned, leading him into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator to uncork a bottle of wine. Xander put his hand out and put it back firmly.

“Let’s have some 7-up.” He suggested. “Nice refreshing summer’s evening drink for a seventeen year old.”

“Geez you’re as bad as Buffy. She’s always on my case in Rome. Even the freaking Immortal who’s meant to be neutral. He supervises my homework like I’m eight for crying out loud. I’m a straight A student. Well I was in California anyway.” Dawn whined. She could have achieved good marks in Rome as well. But she had spent too much time with her Italian ex boyfriend. Dawn wasn’t prepared to face that reality to herself however.

“I’m glad I’m back in the good ole U.S. of A. permanently, gotta confess.” Xander said, retrieving clean glasses from the dishwasher. “It was a toss up if we were gonna open a West Coast branch of the New Watchers Council here, or in Seattle. But Golden Gate City won out.”

An expensive car pulled up in the drive. The garage roller door opened automatically.

“Oh my god.” Dawn could only imagine how her Dad was going to hit the roof about the damage.

Hank Summers walked into the battered living room. What on earth? Had his youngest daughter and her cocktease older friend held a party? He hadn't wanted to leave for that damn conference. But his work placed a lot of demands on him.

“Dawn!” he yelled.

“Hi, Dad.” Dawn came out nervously from the kitchen, Xander following her supportively behind. “Um, this is Xander Harris, remember Buffy’s friend from High School? You met him a coupla times.”

“Mr Summers.” Xander held out his hand. It was ignored.

“What the hell happened?” Hank Summers demanded stunned.

“Oh, like it totally wasn’t my fault Dad. Faith had some friends around. Real losers. I tried to stop them… I had to call up Xander here, to come over and throw them out.” Dawn thought that was the best cover story to explain demon destruction.

“Where is she?” Mr Summers inquired, looking around furiously.

“I told Faith to go. I’m so sorry Dad.” Dawn tried to appear as sweet and innocent as possible.

“It’s okay Dawn.” Hank said unexpectedly. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking while I’ve been away.” Mr Summers put his arm around her. “I think you were acting out a little sweetheart. Why wouldn’t you, with the way I’ve neglected you?”

Dawn gazed up at her father amazed. Xander was surprised as well.

“I’d like you to stay with me permanently Dawn. Judging from your last report card, you’re not performing up to expectations in the European education system.” Hank squeezed her shoulder. “Why not spend your final school year in an American high school here in San Francisco? I’d love it if you gave me the second chance I sure as heck don’t deserve honey.”

“Oh Daddy!” Dawn flung her arms around her contrite father. She could get away with anything if she stayed here. How freaking nifty!


End file.
